Endless
by Rachel Hawkins
Summary: Chapter four is finally up. Post-ep for Shifts Happen. Abby struggles with the endless frustrations of work and visits Luka at his apartment. Please read and review.
1. Now What?

Endless  
  
Chapter One: Now What?  
  
It was like a knife, a finely sharpened scalpel, making delicate slices at her heart. Seeing Carter here again, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, especially after the way he'd left. She remembered the last words he'd spoken to her all those endless weeks ago-It's not Rio, but it's not here. So simple, so brutal, and then he'd been gone.  
  
Seeing him again hurt almost more than she could bear. It threw her off- balance, awakening suddenly to find him at her bedside. She remembered back in May, standing in the ambulance bay, alone, watching him walk away. She remembered the hurt. So she did what she seemed to do so well. She lit a cigarette, and she sent him away.  
  
Now that he was gone, she couldn't seem to stop staring toward the bureau where he'd left his key. Was this it? Was this how it all ended? A few quiet, painful words, and their rocky relationship was over? It didn't seem right that things should end like this. They should talk things out like mature adults, air all of their feelings both good and bad. But then, that's not what he'd done when he'd left, was it? He hadn't even planned on telling her.  
  
Giving up on sleep, she blew out a breath and flung the covers back. She climbed out of bed, taking a deep drag off her cigarette, then deciding she didn't really want it. She hadn't really wanted it in the first place. Habit had forced her to reach for the pack and light up; instinct usually pushed her toward a smoke when things were tense.  
  
She walked over to the bureau and looked down at the key. Carter's key. She stubbed out her cigarette and shook her head. What had he expected? That he would come back and everything would be fine? That those last weeks before he'd left would be forgotten? Maybe it didn't say much for her, but she wasn't capable of just forgiving and forgetting. Not when she thought back to the ice he'd sent her way after the disaster at the funeral. She'd never been sorrier for anything in her life, but he'd continued to hold the transgression against her. She couldn't forget that, and she wasn't ready to forgive him his misdeeds.  
  
"Screw it," she muttered under her breath, then walked into the bathroom and set the bathtub to fill. While the water was running, she went back into her bedroom and gathered up the few items Carter had left behind. A couple of T-shirts, a pair of boxers. She tossed in a couple of snapshots, then finished the whole thing off with a simple little note: You forgot your stuff. She dropped it all into a plastic bag and placed the bag beside the door. There was nothing more she could do. If he wanted to fight for them, she would do her best to listen, but she couldn't be the one to do it. She'd tried before and it hadn't worked. She'd tried to make things better before he'd left, but he'd ignored her efforts. If they had a future together, it had to be up to him to fix things.  
  
She left the lights off when she climbed into the tub and lay in the dark, the warmth of the water soaking into her skin. Since he'd left, she'd done her best to find some peace. She'd gone to work, taken care of her patients, and tried not to think too much about him. Tried not to dwell on the fact that she was in the midst of yet another failed relationship. Richard, Luka, and now Carter.  
  
Of course, maybe all she'd really done was hide from her problems instead of facing them. She'd always tried to face her problems head-on, rather than letting them fester in the dark. Every time her mother-or now Eric- went manic, she faced it with a stoic resolve. She stepped up and took care of them, because that's who she was.  
  
But that was her family. She was good at dealing with her family, because she'd had a lifetime of practice. Men were another story. She'd never gotten that one right. She'd kept things from Richard, important things, and watched while the relationship crumbled. She'd seen the disaster coming, but she hadn't done anything to stop it.  
  
And Luka-she'd begun feeling things for Luka she hadn't even felt for Richard, and it had scared her to death. Doubts had crept into her mind- doubts that if she fought for them, if she tried to make it work in the long run, he'd still leave in the end, and it would hurt twice as much. Because she was falling in love with Luka, but she believed that at some point her problems would become too much for him and he'd walk away from her. She'd worried that the pressure of her family drama would become too much for him. So when the end had come-that crushing, brutal night-she hadn't dared fight any harder.  
  
And Carter? She knew he'd wanted her through much of her relationship with Luka. But back then, for her, it had been different. He'd been the solid, dependable friend she'd gone to so she could vent. She'd counted on him to always be there for her, and when he shot that down, she'd felt ashamed. Because she realized what she'd been doing. Going to Carter to complain about her problems with Luka instead of facing them like she should have.  
  
She'd been happy with Carter, but she couldn't help wondering at the fleeting nature of that happiness. She wondered if their relationship would have had a better chance if they hadn't begun in the midst of such extraordinary circumstances. Sequestered in the ER for two weeks, wondering if they were going to contract a deadly disease. And maybe they'd have had a better chance if she hadn't had so many problems, and if Carter hadn't been so insistent on fixing her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"I didn't really give him a chance to screw it up," Abby told Susan as they walked down the hall. "I woke up and saw him there, and all I could think was how can he just come back and expect everything to be okay?"  
  
"I'm sure that's not what he was expecting."  
  
"Maybe not," she conceded, "but he never forgave me for what happened at his grandmother's funeral, and I don't know if I can forgive him for the way he left. I mean, we'd been together for a year, and the only reason I found out he was leaving was because Luka called from Africa looking for him."  
  
"He had to have been planning to tell you sometime."  
  
"I don't think he was. Because even after I found out, he tried to leave without saying goodbye."  
  
"I don't know what to say. You guys seemed so happy. It seems wrong that this should be happening."  
  
"It is," Abby murmured, leaning against the admit desk while Susan took a chart and signed for the patient on the board.  
  
They started back down the hall and toward one of the exam rooms, and when Abby remained quiet, Susan glanced over at her. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Is it terrible that I miss Luka?" Abby asked suddenly.  
  
"No, it's not terrible. You've been close to him for a long time. You're probably the closest to him of all of us, so it's natural to miss him."  
  
"I keep thinking about the last time I saw him. It was the day of the funeral, and he was in the lounge, and he told me he was leaving for the Congo the next day. I was sort of stunned, and then...then we hugged each other, and it wasn't supposed to feel so good." She shook her head with a derisive little laugh. "You know what? I think I'm losing my mind."  
  
"Well," Susan said as she pushed open the exam room door, "that's not hard to do around here."  
  
* * * * *  
  
It had been a hell of a long shift, and Abby was no closer to solving her problems than she had been when she'd awoken to find Carter at her bedside. In fact, if anything her day had just gotten worse. The tension between her and Carter had already cost a young girl a delay in treatment, and she was very much afraid that if they didn't come to some sort of settlement, more patients would be affected. She wasn't willing to let that happen.  
  
None of that made it easier to talk to him, however. Tension sizzled in the air whenever they crossed paths, which wasn't often considering the fact they seemed to be avoiding each other. The ER was flooded with patients, but they'd worked on only one other case together, a minor ankle sprain with no other complications.  
  
The only complication right now seemed to be her relationship with Carter. Did they have a future together? Did she want them to have a future together? Did he? She couldn't answer any of her questions.  
  
She was glad at least that she had Susan to talk to. It helped having another woman to vent to. It had been a long time since she'd had a close enough friend that she could talk about those kinds of things. Of course, Susan thought she should forgive Carter, but it wasn't that easy. She'd never been good at forgiving, and she thought Carter's transgression didn't deserve such quick forgiveness. She hadn't lied to Susan when she said it wasn't about punishing him, but she hadn't seen or heard from him in three months, and it wasn't in her to forgive him after less than a day. Not after the cold shoulder she'd gotten in the weeks before his departure, and not after the way he'd left.  
  
She was in a bad place, she thought as she looked over at him. Here she was, standing at a coffee stand outside the hospital, hopefully about to have a real conversation with him, and her thoughts kept straying toward Luka. She kept wondering where he was, when he was coming back. She missed him more than she should. She kept flashing back to that last hug, those few moments before he'd left. And the longer he was gone, the more afraid she got that he wasn't coming back. Here she was with Carter, supposed to be talking, but she was feeling something akin to panic at the thought that she'd never see Luka again.  
  
She needed to let it go. She'd lost her chance with him. She'd screwed things up, made the mistake of not letting him inside her heart. She'd kept him closed off from her most painful secrets, and she'd pushed him away.  
  
She'd watched him this past year, and seeing him struggle the way he had had ripped her apart. Because she suspected that a part of his pain had been caused by seeing her together with Carter. She suspected that he hadn't been completely over her, and many times over the past two years she'd struggled to suppress the fact that she wasn't completely over him.  
  
There was a part of her soul that was inexplicably drawn to Luka, as if the lonely, wounded part of her sensed a kinship with his own heart. They were both damaged, disenchanted, and in their pain they found a commonality that tore them apart as easily as it drew them together.  
  
Her musings led her to ask Carter how Luka was, an action that brought out Carter's suspicion and ire. And that irritating, cryptic answer. Luka's more than fine. Even now, as she argued with Carter, as she walked away from him, those words bounced around her head. More than fine. What the hell did that mean? Had he found someone else? And if so, why did the thought hurt so much?  
  
As she turned away from Carter, she saw Chuny push through the plastic sheet that hung over the ambulance entrance and walk toward her. The strange, mournful look on the other woman's face had Abby's heart jumping into her throat. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, unable to keep the slight tremor from her voice. She pictured her mother and her brother. Had something happened to one of them?  
  
"Abby, it's...we just got a call," Chuny said hesitantly.  
  
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. She clenched her suddenly- damp hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "What kind of call?"  
  
"From overseas. It's about Dr. Kovac."  
  
Abby's heart stopped. "Did...something happen to him? Is he all right?"  
  
The compassion in Chuny's eyes tore at Abby's soul. "Abby, Luka died," Chuny said quietly.  
  
"What?" The blood rushed from her head in a dizzying wave. Her hand flew to her mouth, shaking, before it fell useless at her side. Tears welling in her eyes, her knees weakening, she turned her head and sought Carter's gaze.  
  
Moments later she sat at the end of the admit desk, her back turned away from everyone. They all knew of her past relationship with Luka, and she knew they were sneaking glances at her. She wanted to yell at them, to keep their damn sympathy and leave her alone. And then her thoughts were scattered, her mind unable to grasp a single thought for more than a second. She couldn't seem to focus on anything, feeling only a terrible pressure building in her chest.  
  
And then she felt the tears coming, hot and stinging against her eyelids, and she drew even further into herself, until she was barely aware anyone else was around. She had to stop the tears. She couldn't cry. Not now. A part of her was still aware that she was in the middle of a busy hospital, and she couldn't let them see her break. Because the one thing she hated above all was showing her weaknesses to the world.  
  
She felt Susan's hand resting lightly on her back and a lump formed in her throat. A tear leaked from her eye and rolled down her cheek."I've got to get out of here," she murmured as she slid from her stool. "I've got to take a walk."  
  
She felt everyone's eyes on her as she walked away, but she ignored them. She kept her head high, her gait steady as she walked out of the ER and toward the elevators. She was about to lose it, and she had to find somewhere quiet. She knew she couldn't stop the tears, but she could hide until the worst of the storm was over. She could mourn, but she didn't have to let anyone else see her.  
  
She found her sanctuary in an isolated sixth-floor bathroom. She locked the door behind her, tears already streaming down her cheeks, and closed herself into a stall. A sob broke from her lips, and she scraped her tears away as she sank onto the toilet seat. "Oh, God," she whispered, wrapping her arms around her middle and rocking back and forth. "Luka..."  
  
She steadied herself with a hand against the cool metal wall of the stall and squeezed her eyes shut. Her tears forced their way through, determined to fall. Another sob broke through, and finally she gave up and let them come.  
  
She sobbed until her face and neck were coated with tears, until her head ached and her lungs burned. She cried for Luka, for everything he'd deserved but would never get a chance to have. And she cried for herself, for being too stupid and stubborn to make things right with him when she'd had the chance. Now she would never be able to tell him how sorry she was for the way things had turned out. "Luka' I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry."  
  
A harsh cry tore from her throat as her mind conjured vivid, horrible images of Luka dying alone in the jungle. She realized that she didn't know how he'd died, and she prayed that he hadn't had to suffer. He'd suffered enough in his life. But the horrible images wouldn't go away. She pictured him writhing in pain, his body ravaged by some awful disease, or lying in the dirt, bleeding to death from gunshot wounds. Dying, alone. "God, no," she whispered.  
  
She rocked back and forth, willing the tears to stop, willing her mind to stop spinning. She had to get control of herself. Falling apart wasn't doing her any good. It wasn't going to bring Luka back, and it sure wasn't making her feel better. She took deep breaths, the air abrading her raw throat and lungs. She pulled toilet paper from the roll beside her, wiping away the tears and blowing her nose, then stood on shaky legs. She brushed off a few renegade tears and left the stall. She splashed cold water on her face and examined herself in the mirror. She looked like hell. Her eyes were swollen, her face red and blotchy. She looked half-dead, and truth be told she felt that way too.  
  
Twenty minutes later she found Carter in the ER lounge, a phone pressed to his ear. She listened to his end of the conversation, and realized he was trying to reach someone in Zagreb. And when he asked her if she knew Luka's father's name, she realized with no small amount of shame that she had no idea. What kind of person was she, to spend a year with someone and not even know their father's name?  
  
Carter hung up a moment later, and her heart tripped when he started shoveling medical supplies into a large duffel bag. He couldn't go back there. If he went back, she was very much afraid he would be killed as well. She'd just lost Luka; she couldn't lose Carter too.  
  
She followed him when he raided the drug lockup and walked out of the hospital. She followed him through the ambulance bay, telling him not to go. He didn't listen. As he walked down the sidewalk, away from her, and she pleaded with him to stay, she saw the stutter, the almost-hesitation, as her words registered. But he didn't stop. So she stood there, her arms wrapped around her middle, as the world went on around her, as Carter walked away. And then she was alone again.  
  
When she got home later that night, the bottle sat heavily in her purse. 


	2. The Lost

Chapter Two: The Lost  
  
Abby sat stiffly at her kitchen table. It was three-thirty in the morning, and she couldn't sleep. It had been more than 36 hours since she'd learned of Luka's death, and she hadn't had more than two hours sleep since then. Not last night, when she'd laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears coming off and on, her mind unable to stop conjuring images of Luka. She'd tried to sleep tonight, but hadn't gotten more than fifteen minutes at a time. Finally, she'd given up on sleep altogether.  
  
Now here she was, sitting at the table, staring at the bottle she'd purchased the night before. She hadn't opened it yet, but oh, she wanted to. Her desire for the fiery liquid was a living thing, consuming her. It was a siren song, enticing her with promises of pleasure. If she drank it she could be at peace, if only for a little while. If she drank it, she could forget. She could forget about the way Carter had walked away from her. She could forget about the way her coworkers were tiptoeing around her. And she could forget about Luka, about the empty void she felt knowing she would never see him again.  
  
Her fingers closed around the neck of the bottle and she pulled it closer. Cheap, potent whiskey. She could almost feel it burn its way down her throat. Just one sip would feel so good. Just one sip and her pain would start to fade away. Just one sip and she could feel a little peace.  
  
At the moment she didn't care that one sip would lead to two, and two would lead to the entire bottle. She didn't care, because she had nothing left to hold onto. Luka was gone, Carter had left, and she'd never felt so lost in her life.  
  
It was true what they said about hindsight, she thought. Now that it was too late, she saw all the mistakes she'd made along the way. In glaring detail, she saw all of her failings, saw how she could've avoided them but hadn't.  
  
She closed her eyes and pictured her first date with Luka. She'd been so nervous asking him out. She never asked men out. But after impulsively kissing him a couple nights before, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. Just knowing she was in the ER with him had sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach like a teenager with a crush. Which, in a way, she was. Her heart fluttered whenever she was around him, and when they were alone she had trouble finding her words. And though her attempt to ask him out was fumbling, it worked.  
  
The date had started off easily, wonderfully. Playing foosball that night, she hadn't been able to remember the last time she'd had as much fun. Playing with him, talking with him, she'd discovered a side to Luka that he didn't reveal at the hospital. So easygoing and relaxed, but with that adorable hint of first-date jitters. Even that first night she'd started to feel sparks of something deeper develop between them. They'd just seemed to fit together so naturally. He'd made her feel good-happy and relaxed yet definitely energized-for the first time in a long time.  
  
She'd barely felt the cold that night as they walked near the river. They'd talked, joked, and when he took her hand and held it in his much larger one, she'd felt a jolt of electricity. It had felt good, right, being close to him.  
  
And then the mugger had come out of nowhere. She'd never been so scared in her life as when Luka fell to the ground like that. But she hadn't had any time to worry about whether he was unconscious or worse, because the mugger came after her, demanding the purse she hadn't been carrying that night. She hadn't known what to do except throw her hands up in self-defense and wait for the man's angry blows.  
  
But Luka had gotten back up, and the mugger was no match for his much larger size. And she'd never admitted it to anyone, but Luka's rage had terrified her. It had taken over him, and it had been as if he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He'd smashed the mugger's head into the ground far longer than was necessary to subdue him. The detective they'd spoken with that night had assured them it had been self-defense and that there was nothing to worry about. But neither of them had told him just how many times the mugger's head had hit the ground.  
  
Abby had made her first mistake with Luka that night. When he'd shrugged off her care and walked away, she hadn't gone after him. His face had been a cold, blank mask, but turbulent emotions had swirled in his eyes. She'd felt the burden of guilt on his shoulders, but she'd stayed behind. She'd known him for so little time, she hadn't dared follow him. But she should have stayed, just so he wasn't alone, so she wasn't alone.  
  
She pulled the cap off of the bottle and let the sharp scent waft up to her. Her mouth watered for it, and she was ashamed. No matter how much time passed, she knew she'd always be tempted. Alcohol would always hold that power over her.  
  
Luka's face flashed through her mind, and a sheen of tears gathered in her eyes. He shouldn't be dead. He deserved to live his life, to live it with passion, to find a woman who could love him, who could give him children, who could make him happy. When she thought of her mother, and now her brother, she wasn't sure she dared to be that woman. Because what her family went through she wouldn't wish on anyone.  
  
But none of that mattered, she thought with a harsh laugh, bringing the bottle to her lips. Luka was dead. He had died, alone in the jungle, no one by his side to comfort him. No one to tell him they loved him.  
  
Well, I did, she thought as her first sip burnt its fiery path down her throat. I was just too damn stupid to do anything about it when I had the chance.  
  
She set the bottle down, hard enough to slosh a little onto the table, and wiped away a tear. She looked down at the bottle, at the transient comfort it promised, and there wasn't a recrimination strong enough for what she felt in that moment. She raged at herself, for all of her useless fears and insecurities, for never having the guts to make the life she'd wanted. A life with Luka. And she raged against fate, for keeping her here while taking away the life of a man who, more than anyone she'd ever known, deserved to be happy.  
  
With a violent curse she swung her arm, sending the bottle flying. It shattered against the side of the refrigerator, glass shards dropping and shooting out like lethal teardrops, the liquid sloshing down the side of the refrigerator and pooling at the bottom.  
  
Luka didn't deserve this. She would not let his death, her memories of him both good and bad, turn her into a miserable drunk. She scraped her fingers through her hair and sighed. She wondered if there were any meetings at four in the morning. Then she looked down at herself and shook her head. She'd make quite a site walking into a meeting in ratty pajama pants and an old tank top.  
  
Maybe she'd take Dr. Weaver up on her offer of a few days off, Abby thought suddenly, slumping back down in her seat. Maybe she could go visit her mother. Her relationship with Maggie was a mistake she hadn't lost the chance to fix yet. Maybe it was time to put all of her childhood hurts aside and make things right with her mother. She'd made the mistake of refusing to let Luka help when she was having problems with her mother. She knew he'd wanted her to work on her relationship with her mother, but she hadn't done it. Well, she could do it now, for her, and for him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
She got to the hospital early, hoping to catch Dr. Weaver at the beginning of her shift. She didn't want to have to trail the woman through the halls like a lost puppy dog. She wanted to get this over with a minimum of fuss, then be gone.  
  
She snuck into the lounge and let the door swing shut before anyone noticed her. Today was her scheduled day off, and she didn't want to have to tell them why she was here. Because then she'd have to endure their looks of sympathy. She didn't want sympathy, and she damn sure didn't want pity.  
  
Weaver walked in ten minutes later, as Abby sat staring at Luka's locker. "Abby, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be off today."  
  
Abby took a deep breath. "I know. I just wanted to see if I can still take you up on y our offer to take a couple days off."  
  
"Is everything all right?"  
  
"Fine, I just thought I'd take a couple of days, maybe drive up to see my mom."  
  
"I think that's a good idea," Kerry said in her no-nonsense yet still sympathetic way. "You take as much time as you need."  
  
"I just want a couple of days. I just want to get away from the hospital for a while." Because I can't stop thinking about Luka, she thought. Every time I walk down the halls I expect to see him coming toward me. And I can't take it.  
  
"I understand. Just let me know when you get back."  
  
"I will. Thanks." She waited until Kerry left the lounge, then closed her eyes and sighed. That hadn't been so bad, she thought. She only wished the next part-talking to her mother-would be as easy.  
  
She left the ER a couple minutes later after casting a last long look at Luka's locker. She wondered who was going to clean it out, and what would be done with his things. Then she wondered what would happen to his apartment, and if anyone had been feeding his fish. When she felt her eyes mist over, she hurried through the ambulance bay, ignoring the voice behind her, calling her name.  
  
But when the voice persisted, she finally stopped, closing her eyes briefly before turning around.  
  
Lily rushed up to her, holding onto her stethoscope so it wouldn't fly away. "Abby, Dr. Weaver wants to talk to you. She said it's urgent."  
  
Abby prayed for patience. "Look, I'm off for the next couple days. Whatever it is, it can wait until I get back."  
  
"I really think you need to come now."  
  
"Damn it," Abby muttered under her breath, then followed the other nurse back inside. When she looked up at the admit desk and saw Kerry standing behind it, the phone clutched in her hand with a look of shock on her face, Abby's heart sped up. She waited until Kerry hung up the phone, then raised her eyes expectantly.  
  
Kerry met her gaze, shaking her head slightly. "You're not going to believe it..." 


	3. Dear Abby

Chapter Three: Dear Abby  
  
He was coming home.  
  
As Abby stood at her bathroom sink, getting ready for work, she still couldn't believe Luka was coming home. Alive. He was sick, still recovering from malaria, but he was going to be okay. He would be arriving in only a matter of hours, and she was going out of her mind with anticipation.  
  
When Lily had drawn her back inside the hospital two days ago, a heavy weight of dread had settled on her shoulders. She'd expected bad news from Kerry. All she ever seemed to get anymore was bad news. She'd wondered about Maggie and Eric, then she'd wondered if she was getting fired. Or if she was going to have to fire somebody.  
  
She'd walked in to see Kerry standing at the admit desk with a look of bewildered amazement on her face. Abby's heartbeat had kicked up a notch. "What is it, Dr. Weaver?" she'd asked.  
  
"It's about Dr. Kovac," Kerry had replied quietly.  
  
Abby swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. "Did...did Carter find him?"  
  
Kerry nodded. "They're bringing him back."  
  
Abby closed her eyes briefly, willing back a sudden rush of tears. "Is he...he's going to be...buried in Chicago?"  
  
Kerry's hand reached toward her. "No, Abby, you don't understand. They found him alive. He's going to make it."  
  
Abby gripped the counter as her knees nearly gave out. "What? He's alive? How?"  
  
"I don't know all of the details, but apparently he contracted malaria while working at a clinic somewhere in the jungle."  
  
"Matenda," Abby murmured, remembering Carter's words as he'd rushed out of the hospital a few nights before.  
  
"They're taking him to a hospital in Paris tonight, then he'll fly here tomorrow."  
  
Abby had immediately canceled her impromptu vacation plans. The last two days had passed in a slow blur of anticipation. She'd had so much nervous energy that her entire apartment was now clean from top to bottom. All of her laundry was done, all of her bills paid. Now she had nothing left to do except work and wait.  
  
She wished he needed a place to stay while he recovered. She remembered after Brian had attacked her; Luka hadn't hesitated to open his door to her. Back then, she hadn't wanted to admit she needed him. But staying in her own apartment, while Brian was out on bail, had worked steadily at her nerves. She'd laid awake at night, jumping at every noise, wondering if Brian was going to come after he again. So finally she'd shoved her stubborn pride away and gone to Luka.  
  
She still remembered the way her heart had sank when another woman had opened his door. It had been so hard for her to see him with Nicole, and then this other woman...if it hadn't been for the sincerity in Luka's voice, and the intensity in his eyes, she would have been long gone.  
  
Luka wasn't going to need her help now, though. He would continue his recovery here in the hospital, then he would go home to his own apartment. He'd have his own doctors and nurses to take care of him here, and he wasn't going to need the comfort of her presence once he got home.  
  
She sighed as she walked into the hospital later that morning. She was so distracted with thoughts of Luka that she let herself get talked into giving the official tour of the ER to a group of new residents. She groaned inwardly as she eyed the three young doctors. Luka was going to be here soon, and the last thing she wanted was to be saddled with these three people and unable to stop and see him. So if she was a little sarcastic and standoffish as she led them through the ER, she didn't think it was her fault. All she was really trying to do was impress upon them the fact that they needed to treat the nurses with respect. She couldn't help it if she hadn't been born with many people skills.  
  
She wondered how long their bright-eyed enthusiasm would last. She wondered if they even realized that staying here long was bound to turn them bitter and cynical. It had sure as hell worked on her. She remembered when she'd started down here as an eager yet apprehensive med student. She'd been so positive she could make a difference as a doctor, so eager to help each and every person who came through the door. She'd learned soon enough that it wasn't possible.  
  
She stopped at triage, where Malik was working on a seemingly endless stream of patients. Sometimes she wished they would just all go away, she thought, then gritted her teeth and shrugged when Malik asked her when Carter was coming back. The truth was, she had no idea. When he'd left her standing on the street in front of the hospital, he'd told her he'd call her when he got to Paris. But he hadn't called. She hadn't heard a whisper from him since that night, and she had no idea if he was going to be on the flight with Luka or not.  
  
She moved on with the tour, guiding her charges to the admit desk, where she introduced them to Pratt, who was the personification of treating nurses like crap. He was smug and conceited, and she remembered a crack he'd made to her a while back. Something along the lines of I'll fly the plane, you serve the coffee. She'd wanted to slug him in the face when he'd said it.  
  
When Susan came to the admit desk with a group of med students trailing behind her, Abby was glad that she'd drawn the residents. At the moment, the only thing she'd rather do less than give a tour to a group of eager young residents was give a tour to a group of eager young med students.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"...He should be here any minute," Jerry said, and Abby felt a burst of adrenaline rush into her veins. Any minute...he was going to be here any minute. She looked over at the residents and groaned inwardly. Maybe she could find a case for them to work up, just so she could get them out of her hair for a few minutes.  
  
Almost as soon as she turned around she was confronted by Conni and Lydia, who she discovered were understandably angry by the new schedule. She stared at her won two scheduled shifts and wondered what the hell Romano was thinking. The ER needed experienced nurses, not undertrained aides and registry volunteers. She wondered if he was really so callous that he would sacrifice patient care and possibly lives to save a few bucks.  
  
So she would have to talk to him, she thought with a sense of dread. He was an unpleasant man under the best of circumstances, and these weren't the best. Ever since he'd lost his arm for good-along with losing his job to Weaver-he'd been almost impossible to deal with. Sometimes she really hated being charge nurse, she thought sourly.  
  
Yosh blew by in a whirlwind, informing her she'd lost the triage lottery yet again. The nine-to-one shift was usually the busiest-and therefore worst-shift to get stuck with. When Yosh hurried down the hall, ignoring her protest, she wondered if this day could get any worse. "I swear the thing is rigged," she muttered.  
  
When she heard Frank calling her name, she figured things could indeed get worse. She turned to face him, and when he only pointed, her eyes followed automatically.  
  
And there he was. Looking weary, Luka lay back on a gurney as a couple of paramedics pushed him inside. Her heart leapt, a smile breaking past her lips, before jealousy pinched at her. She watched Jerry greet him, then Malik. Damn it, she wanted-no, needed, really-to see him, to hear his voice. To really be sure he was okay. But everyone else was getting to him first. She pivoted and made her way past the admit desk, planning to intercept him before he got to the elevator.  
  
She shook off Pratt's hand and looked toward Luka, but she was interrupted again. A delirious patient chose that moment to start shouting and struggling. Once he was under control, Neela, the new med student, intercepted her with news that a pregnant woman's water had just broken. Frustrated, Abby went to the woman. There was no way she could leave a pregnant woman in distress.  
  
Susan showed up then, and Abby hurried down the hall to grab the fetal monitor. She caught a glimpse of Luka from the other side of the hall, and tracked his progress toward the elevator. She passed the monitor to Malik and fought her way to Luka. But she missed him. She called his name just before the elevator doors closed, but his head was back, his eyes closed. He didn't hear her, and then he was gone.  
  
* * * * *  
  
She worked. And worked. And worked. From recalcitrant old men, to unresponsive children, to just plain crazies. She saw, worked up and checked out so many patients she thought she'd explode. And each time she discarded her gloves and checked the clock, far too little time had passed. And far too much. She felt like an eternity had passed since Luka had arrived, and she still hadn't been able to stop and see him. It was driving her out of her mind.  
  
And then she met Elle, and it was obvious to her that the teenager was in distress. Her breathing was bad, her cough worrisome, and the instincts she'd developed over her years as a nurse told her there was something really wrong with her. Besides an overprotective, pushy mother. She hated seeing parents steamroll their children, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything now.  
  
She got Elle set up with Dr. Lewis, then stood behind the admit desk for a breather. She was exhausted already, and she was only halfway through her shift. Her day wasn't helped when Conni and Lydia informed her they'd sent a petition to Romano. She didn't oppose the petition, though she hadn't signed it, but she really didn't want to have to deal with this right now. This was turning into a bitch of a day, and the fewer non-patient-related problems she had to deal with, the better. For that matter, the fewer patient-related problems she had to deal with today, the better.  
  
She picked up the phone, intending to at least call and find out about Luka, then almost had a heart attack when she learned Frank the Foreigner- Hater had even been to see him. And he just had to add that aggravating, sideways comment, Just popped my head in to say hi. Wouldn't hurt you to do the same thing.  
  
She got through upstairs and asked about Luka, and when the response came from behind her, rather than in her ear, she turned around in surprise. She wasn't sure she liked what she found. A bubbly woman with long dark hair and an effusive smile who seemed to know far too much about Luka's condition. Abby looked at her askance, a kernel of uneasiness forming in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like the vibes she was getting from this woman. Who was she, to be an expert on Luka's condition?  
  
"John talked a lot about you," Gillian said after introducing herself.  
  
"John....Carter?" Abby asked in disbelief. This woman knew Carter too? And when Gillian clarified that she had worked with both Luka and John in the Congo, Abby thought she was going to be sick. Nausea and sorrow formed a terrible, potent mixture in her stomach, because she suddenly knew who this woman was. She was the reason Luka had been more than fine. When Carter had made the comment it had rankled. She knew the cryptic words had been designed to annoy her, and they'd done that and more. And now that she stood here, in front of the meaning behind those words, she felt herself begin to crack apart.  
  
A moment later she stuck Elle's chart in the rack and hurried out of the ER, Carter's letter in her hand. It made a sort of terrible, ironic sense that Luka's apparent new girlfriend had given her a letter sent by her most likely former boyfriend.  
  
This really was turning into the worst day of her life.  
  
She sat on the bench near the ambulance bay doors, wind ruffling her hair. She read Carter's words, but her only outward reaction was a slight pinching of her face and a shake of her head. People could be watching, and she'd be damned if she was going to let them see just how much Carter's words were affecting her. "This thing between us isn't working," Carter wrote. "It hasn't been working for a long time..."  
  
She was interrupted by the nurses again, but this time it wasn't just Conni and Lydia. Yosh was with them, along with a couple of the other full-time nurses. And the news wasn't good. This time it wasn't just a petition, it was a walk-out. Wearily she watched them all walk away. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, aware of Frank's droning but not paying too much attention to it until he oh-so-politely told her that her break was over. She looked at him for a moment, then crumpled Carter's letter and walked back inside, thinking that at least nothing else could possibly go wrong, because everything was already wrong.  
  
* * * * *  
  
She wished she'd known just how wrong she'd been. Because things could always get worse. Much worse.  
  
In the trauma room, trying to save young Bobby's life, she told herself it was just her imagination leading her to believe all of the doctors were ganging up against her. But it sure seemed that way, and it made her angry. And it made her feel lonely at a time when she really needed something to hold onto. Especially when both Lewis and Corday shot down her every suggestion to save the boy. She felt like she was on display, the gurney, Bobby's body a barrier between her and her audience. It was not a pleasant feeling.  
  
When everyone left and she was alone, she quietly cleaned and covered the boy's body. She fought back tears, not just for the boy, but for herself. The last couple of weeks notwithstanding, she wasn't much of a crier. But today it seemed like every time she turned around, another weight was being placed upon her shoulders, and she felt very close to breaking.  
  
But nothing could have made her head spin the way it did when she found out that everyone down to Edna the geriatric nurse not only knew about Carter's letter but had read it. It was awful enough that Carter had officially broken up with her in a letter, but it was infinitely worse that everyone else knew exactly what he'd written. Not only to know, but to comment to her about it. And she had no doubt they were gossiping about it behind her back. In that moment, she would have been quite happy to walk out of the hospital and never come back.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Abby felt a new kind of low when she learned the truth about Elle's condition but was told the parents didn't want their daughter to know until another test was performed three days later. Elle was a good kid, and she wasn't stupid. She knew something was wrong with her, but to be unable to tell her...and then to have Susan lecture her in a way that made her feel like a child, well...it wasn't the first time today she'd felt like quitting. She was tired of everything. Tired of this job, of the endless stream of patients she couldn't help, tired of the politics that kept everyone from doing the jobs the way they should have been able to, and she was tired of the gossipy atmosphere that reeked of junior high. Yes, she'd been a part of it before, but this was different. Carter's letter, her whole relationship with him, should have been off-limits. She shouldn't have been served up for the entertainment value.  
  
A short time later, after finally getting her letter back from Frank and Jerry, she escaped into the elevator and made her way upstairs. Maybe seeing Luka could lift her spirits. Maybe seeing his face was the only thing that could help drag her out of the pit she'd fallen into.  
  
It worked for a minute, when she heard the deep sound of his voice, and the lopsided grin he sent her way. There was awkwardness between them, two former lovers who didn't know just where they stood now, but seeing him standing there in front of her was the first bright spot in an interminably long and dark day. She smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks, and she had an almost uncontrollable urge to wrap her arms around him and hold on, just to make sure this was all real. Just to make sure he was really here, and that he was really going to be okay.  
  
Gillian chose that moment to appear, and Abby had to turn away from her obvious affection for Luka. Her throat closed up as they smiled at each other, and seeing the intimate way Gillian brushed the hair from Luka's forehead broke Abby's heart. She could almost feel herself shatter into pieces on the ground. But she didn't let them see how much she was hurting. She forced a smile past her lips and hoped they wouldn't notice that it didn't reach her eyes, then she said her goodbyes and walked away. Hearing them talk quietly to each other in the background, she pulled Carter's letter out of her pocket, crumpled it, and made damn sure that it made it into the garbage this time. Then she went to find Elle.  
  
When Abby saw the girl through the window of her new private room, she looked so alone, so scared. Abby stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, not giving a damn what the consequences of her actions might be. She didn't care if she got yelled at, reprimanded. She didn't care if she got suspended. She didn't care if she got fired.  
  
"Okay," she said with a deep breath. "I want you to keep in mind that the doctors still have to run another test to confirm everything."  
  
"Am I dying?" Elle asked bluntly, though the bravado in her voice couldn't hide the fear in her eyes.  
  
"The doctors think you have something called Primary Pulmonary Hypertension," Abby said. "It's a condition where the pressure in the artery that connects the lungs and the heart is high."  
  
"How serious is it?"  
  
"It's very serious," Abby said quietly. "I'm sorry."  
  
After several minutes and numerous questions, Elle asked, "Are you going to get in trouble for telling me all this?"  
  
"I don't know," Abby said. "Your parents wanted to wait for the test on Monday before they told you, and I don't know how they'll react when they find out you already know. But I'm not worried about getting in trouble, and I don't want you to worry for me. You just take care of yourself."  
  
Much later that night, as Abby tossed and turned restlessly in bed, feeling the outside cold seep through her window and into her bones, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye as she mourned the certainty that she would always be alone. 


	4. Shifts Happen

Author's note: Sorry this chapter is so late. I've been extra busy this past week and haven't gotten a chance to get it finished. And I'm planning on editing it and adding the scene at the end with Richard. I'll probably post the changes when I add the chapter for Out of Africa. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter, and please send me lots of reviews :)  
  
Chapter Four: Shifts Happen  
  
Abby stuffed another chart in the rack and breathed a sigh of relief. Her shift was almost over. It had been another incredibly long, pain-in-the- ass day. They were still down to only one attending per shift, plus Weaver today, which had only really added to her headache.  
  
She was starting to get used to the residents, even though Cooper was the only one pulling his weight, but the med students were still driving her crazy. And then there were the new nurses. Weaver had brought them to her like an unwanted flu bug; there'd been nothing she could do to get rid of them. All of them were barely out of nursing school, and none of them had ever worked in a busy emergency room before. She saw the looks on their faces, and could only imagine what was going through their minds.  
  
She prayed she hadn't been that maddening when she'd been fresh out of nursing school.  
  
She headed down the hall, two of the nurses trailing behind her like baby ducklings. There was one advantage to these crazy shifts though, she thought. When she was this busy, she didn't have time to stop and think about Luka and Gillian.  
  
She cringed inwardly. Maybe it was immature, maybe it was petty, but Abby hated the other woman. There was something off-putting about her. It wasn't anything obvious; just something in her manner that grated on Abby's nerves. Beyond the fact that she was seeing Luka, that is.  
  
She wanted Luka to be happy. He deserved it, after everything he'd been through, but she didn't think he'd find that with Gillian. She didn't strike Abby as the type of woman who would stick around in the long run. She seemed like the type of woman who would leave when she got bored. Abby didn't want to see her hurt Luka.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Abby was really, really tired of nobody listening to her. Trauma after trauma, minor injury after minor injury, her suggestions and observations were pushed aside. It had been happening more and more lately. She didn't know if it was because the hospital had been so much busier than usual, and everyone was more stressed than usual, or if it was just that the doctors' respect for nurses was decreasing. But whatever the reason, she was sick of being ignored. She knew what she was talking about. She'd been a nurse for years, and she'd made it through med school near the top of her class. Maybe she wasn't authorized to perform procedures like the central line Neela was currently making an unsuccessful attempt to put in, but that didn't mean she didn't know how to do it. She wished everyone would realize that.  
  
A few minutes later she handed a pile of charts to Pratt and headed down the hall with Susan, who was grinning from ear to ear. "You leaving?" Abby guessed.  
  
"Yeah, finally," Susan said. "It's been almost sixteen hours, and I am more than ready to go home. When are you getting off?"  
  
"I was supposed to be off an hour ago."  
  
"You let yourself get dragged back in? Are you a glutton for punishment or what?"  
  
"Hey, you stayed late too," Abby said with half a smile. "This place just sucks you in and doesn't let go."  
  
"It would help if Weaver would hire a few more docs," Susan said.  
  
"It would help even more if the docs we already have would listen to the nurses once in a while," Abby muttered. A little louder she added, "It would also be nice if we could get some competent nurses around here."  
  
"New nurses not working out?"  
  
"This is no place to put someone barely out of nursing school. I don't care how cheap they are. So far most of them have only gotten in the way. They don't know what they're doing, and I don't have the time or energy to teach them."  
  
"Not to mention the temperament," Susan added, smiling to make sure Abby didn't take it wrong.  
  
"Don't I know it."  
  
"So what about when you finally get out of here? Got any plans?"  
  
"Is Chuck out of town?" Abby joked, then shook her head and sighed. "Well...Gillian, uh, invited me to dinner."  
  
"Who's Gillian?"  
  
"She's...Luka's girlfriend," Abby said, trying not to choke on the words. It was somehow worse to say them aloud. "I called to see how Luka was doing, she answered, and she invited me to have dinner with them."  
  
"That sounds a little awkward," Susan said. "Are you going to go?"  
  
"I don't know," Abby said at length. "I guess I'll just decide when I leave here."  
  
"If you ever manage that," Susan said as they reached the lounge. Susan disappeared inside, and Abby headed back to the admit desk, ready to face the next in the shift's endless trials.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Of course, she went. She really didn't want to have dinner with them, but her desire to see Luka overrode her discomfort at the thought of spending time in the other woman's presence. Since Carter's letter and Luka's return, she'd been thinking a lot about the mistakes she'd made in her life. One of the biggest, she'd decided, had been the way she'd let her relationship with Luka disintegrate. Only after it was far too late had she realized just how much she missed him, how much she loved spending time with him. So when she finally got off work around nine thirty, she headed for his apartment.  
  
When he opened his door, she couldn't contain her smile. It was just so good to see him. And when he smiled back, she felt something surge inside her. A feeling which immediately plummeted when Gillian came forward and said she hadn't thought Abby would accept. Abby forced a grimace down, wondering if Gillian knew that she and Luka had spent a year together. And even if she didn't, she knew about Carter. What was it, Abby wondered? Did Gillian feel sorry for her? Did she think Abby was lonely, that she needed a handout?  
  
When Gillian left and Abby was alone with Luka, she felt relieved; yet there was an awkwardness between them still. They couldn't seem to find a safe topic to discuss, or a safe distance to be from each other. Abby hated the tension at the same time she was powerless to change it.  
  
And then Luka revealed that Gillian was leaving because her boyfriend wanted her to go back home, and Abby was floored. She feigned mild surprise, accepting Luka's half-explanation that the situation was complicated, but inside she felt the beginnings of anger and disgust. Gillian claimed affection for Luka, spent her time with him doing things Abby had no desire to know about, and all the while she had a boyfriend back home?  
  
"I can get the food back out if you're hungry," Luka said.  
  
Abby waved the suggestion away. "Don't worry about it. I'm not really hungry. I really just wanted to see how you were doing." She looked around his apartment, which was largely the same as it had been when she'd been here last. She sighed. "I should probably leave, let you get some rest or...whatever," she finished awkwardly.  
  
"I was just going to take a walk, get some air," Luka said. "You can come if you want."  
  
More than anything, she thought. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah," Luka said, picking up a jacket. "We can make up."  
  
A spike of adrenaline shot through her before she realized what he actually meant. "Catch up," she clarified. "I'd like that." She smiled bravely and followed him out the door.  
  
They walked down to the river, chatting about this and that, looking for all the world like two old friends. Or two people out on a date, walking along and enjoying each other's company. Abby remembered a time that had been true, and she wanted it back. She wanted back the first days of their relationship, before Carter, before her mother had shown up, before the mugger, before the distance. She wanted a chance to go back, to correct things before they had a chance to go so wrong.  
  
"How's work been?" Luka asked.  
  
"Busy," Abby said. "Crazier than usual. Weaver ordered some construction done in the ER. It was supposed to take two weeks, and instead took two months. And then Romano fired half the nurses and replaced them with rookies who don't know what they're doing."  
  
"He just fired them?"  
  
Abby nodded. "The senior nurses. He didn't want to have to pay extra money and benefits, so he fired them."  
  
"How is his arm?" Luka asked.  
  
"He lost it back in May, a couple weeks after you left. Weaver got named temporary Chief of Staff. She takes a shift every few weeks, to keep up her skills, she says."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Luka said with a half-hearted laugh.  
  
"Speaking of work, when are you coming back?" Abby asked. "You are coming back, aren't you?"  
  
Luka paused before answering, then nodded. "Soon, I think," he said. "I just want a little more time to get rested. It sounds like I'll need it."  
  
"You seem to be getting your strength back...."  
  
They walked slowly down the steps, catching up. When he asked how she was doing after her breakup with Carter and she told him she was fine, she realized it was true. She really was fine without him. What their relationship had become hadn't been good for either of them, and she was more relieved than anything that it was over. And when he asked if she was happy, she held herself back from her usual quick affirmation. Instead, she found herself compelled to answer him honestly, and told him she was getting there. And she was. She was doing everything she could to fix everything that had been going wrong.  
  
She'd been thinking about things for a long time, months in fact, but had only made her decisions in the last few days. Carter's letter, and to some degree learning of Luka's relationship with Gillian, had been her stimulus. She needed to let go of the past, to move on before she became nothing more than a bitter old maid.  
  
But now, standing here with Luka, she was finding it hard to move on. The connection she'd felt with him so long ago was still there, as strong as ever. She'd pushed it aside and trampled on it, but it had refused to die. She was still drawn to him, still compelled to be near him, to look into his eyes and wrap herself in his arms. And as they leaned against the stone railing, up above the river, she looked into his eyes and thought she saw some of her own longing there. She tried to tell herself it was just a trick of the eye that made her believe she saw longing in his eyes.  
  
Her pager went off, and when she looked at the number on it, she silently screamed at the unfairness of the world. Here she was, finally alone with Luka, having an honest conversation, and work interrupted her. Worse, she knew she was going to have to go back. Once she'd paid her bills last week, she'd been one step away from broke, and she was never going to be able to make the changes to her life she needed to if she didn't get her hands on some cash.  
  
She'd never been so reluctant to do anything as she was when she walked away from him. He'd given her a chance to stay, suggesting she ignore the page, and she was incredibly tempted to do so. But in the end she couldn't do it. She would have given anything to be able to stay there with him. She would happily have stayed there forever, but she had to fix her life, so she said goodbye and went back to the hospital. 


End file.
